


Goodbye, Cruel World!

by DivineNoodles



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Basically HHW's first band story but Not, F/F, Gen, Hagumi is a little devil, Humor, Kanon swears A LOT, Kaoru no longer respects women, Kokoro wants power, MisaKanon vibes later on because I'm Like That, Misaki is doing her best, Personality Flip AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-22 02:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22808314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DivineNoodles/pseuds/DivineNoodles
Summary: Misaki Okusawa just wanted to make people happy. Unfortunately she seems to have been roped into a band with a foul-mouthed, chainsmoking drummer; an impish, hyper-competitive bassist; a wayward, heartbreaking guitarist; and a singer who never, EVER smiles. What's a girl stuck in a grungy bear costume to do?
Comments: 39
Kudos: 87





	Goodbye, Cruel World!

**Author's Note:**

> Over a month ago I saw this AU making rounds on Twitter and now... it's in fic form. Enjoy!
> 
> CW: lyrics that may included topics like blood, choking, capitalism, etc.

Misaki Okusawa had only ever wished for one thing in life -- to make people smile.

It was a hard world, filled with war and starvation and so many other bad things. She was fortunate to have a big home and a loving family and a safe place to eat and sleep at night. But she knew a lot of people out there didn’t have those luxuries: they lived under the thumb of poverty and oppression and capitalism. So she just wanted to help spread her own happiness around as best as she could. Yeah, maybe she was only one high schooler, but even one high schooler could help make others happy, right?

So when she found a job posting to be a mascot for the local downtown district - well, she just jumped at the opportunity! Handing out balloons to little kids in a bulky suit might be a little tough, but it was sure to brighten things up a bit!

She arrived at the train station the day of her interview in her typical get-up -- bright yellow cardigan with a light blue polka-dot skirt -- smiling as she approached the meeting place, where a man in a collared shirt stood. “Um, excuse me!” she called. “Are you the one who posted the job?”

“That’s right,” said the man. “And you’re Okusawa-san, yes?”

Misaki nodded, beaming wider. “I’m here to apply for the position!”

“Of course. Right this way, if you’ll please…”

Misaki followed, equally eager and nervous as she moseyed down the sidewalk.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the station’s field, a woman with torn jeans, a plain black tank top, and long blue hair tied up in a ponytail grunted as she set down a snare drum. “Fuckin’ hell, this shit’s way heavier than I thought it’d be…” She took a long drag on her cigarette and muttered to herself as she scanned the periphery for one of the station’s handlers, locking eyes with one moments later. “Oi, ‘scuse me! You know the way to-”

Before she could finish her hailing, she caught someone walking up to her in the corner of her periphery. She spun her head to meet the deadened eyes of a choppy-haired blonde girl, decked out in a dark Fallout Boy camisole and countless spiked bangles, including a particularly pointy choker. But none of that, or the slackened way she stuck her thumbs in her black jean pockets, or the quarter-thick eyeliner, was intimidating -- no, what was frightening was the scowl etched into her face, so severe and hardlined that it seemed permanent, emitting an implacable gloom.

“You,” the blonde girl commanded. “Let’s jam.”

The blue-haired girl -- Kanon -- bit down on her cigarette, raising an eyebrow. “Huh? The fuck are you on about?”

“That’s a drum, isn’t it?” said the blonde, pointing at the instrument. “You should know how to play. Jam with me.”

Kanon blew a big billow of smoke to the side. “Listen, I was actually on my way to return this thing because it sounds like shit. I don’t wanna ‘jam’ with you, ‘kay?” 

The blonde girl continued staring at her. “You go to Hanasakigawa, don’t you?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

The blonde girl’s hair wallowed in the wind. “Kokoro Tsurumaki. 1st year.”

Kanon sighed. “Kanon Matsubara. 2nd year. Now get outta my-”

Kokoro didn’t take heed of her warning, instead swerving towards the mass of people crowding the square. And then, with only the smallest of intake of breath:

She began scream-singing.

####  **_“AAaaaAaAAAAAHAAHAAaahahHAAHAHAAhhhhaHAHAAAAhahahahAAAAAAAHAaahHAAHAHA!!!”_ **

Her screeching carried out well over the square, drawing the attention of everybody in a hundred-meter radius, who were drawn over by the sheer force of her vocals. Kanon reflexively took a step back. “H-Hey, what the fuck are you doing?!”

“...Look at them, Kanon,” said Kokoro, motioning to the crowd of people who had come to stare. “The people who go about their daily lives, numb to all the suffering that surrounds them… how can they live so happily?”

“Okay, I have  _ no  _ fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about,” said Kanon, running a hand through her hair. “I’m gonna go off and return this--”

“Come, Kanon!” Kokoro called. “Let’s remind them of how cruel this world really is!” And with that, she began belting out noise again.

A sigh escaped Kanon’s lungs. How was she getting entangled in this? She really should be making a break for it right about now -- she didn’t have time for this shit. And yet…

“Kanon!” Kokoro bellowed in-between screams. “Join me! Show them all how you’re really feeling!”

“...Fuuuck.” Kanon grit her teeth and pulled out her drum and sticks, pattering away to provide a backbone to Kokoro’s incoherency.  _ How’d I end up like this…? _

Meanwhile, back on the other end of the square… “So, why did you want to take this job?”

Misaki clutched her handbag strap nervously. “Well, the world’s been full of bad news lately, so… I thought I’d try to help make people feel better, in any way I can! Especially kids, since they have it so hard…”

“Well that’s sweet of you,” said the interviewer, matching her smile. “Most people who take this kind of work are just doing it for the money, but I guess kids these days are more idealistic, eh?”

Right as he said this, Kokoro’s screams carried over the pitch:

####  **_THE GOVERNMENT IS CORRUPT_ **

####  **_TAKING WHAT CHILDREN NEED_ **

####  **_FUCKING PIGS WITH FUCKING BILE_ **

####  **_CHOKING ON THEIR GREED_ **

“...Well, most of them,” the man qualified with a chuckle. “They sure are something, eh?”

Misaki quivered as she watched Kokoro bellow, backed by Kanon’s drumming.  _ Wah… so scary… I could never imagine doing something like that… it’s so loud and angry… _

She recognized the girl singing -- Kokoro Tsurumaki was the most notoriously morose person in the entire school district. She was constantly disheartening the entire atmosphere of certain places with her mere presence. And she  _ never  _ smiled -- ever. Misaki absolutely did not want to interact with such a cheerless person: better to stay far away from someone like that.

“Anyway, you seem like a nice girl, so I’ll give you the job,” the man said, beckoning her onward. “Come along!”

Her face brightening, Misaki skipped after him, so happy that she would have something to look forward to after school -- well, besides tennis and making felt dolls for herself and her sister, which she already loved. But having more hobbies was always great!

Across the field, Kokoro and Kanon’s performance finished with bombastic aplomb, as the small crowd of teens that had gathered in front of them roared with approval. It wasn’t long before the station officers came to break up the gathering, but even as she was being shooed away Kanon could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins.  _ Woah… what’s this feeling coursing through my veins…? _

“Do you feel it too?” asked Kokoro, as if reading her mind.

Kanon jumped -- she hadn’t expected her to follow her. “The shit are you talking about?”

“That crowd… we woke them up to the sins of the world.” Kokoro’s hair continued to whip dramatically in the breeze, her hand clutching at her eye. “It was thanks to your steady beat that my voice could carry so far.”

“You’re really giving me too much credit…” Kanon muttered, snuffing out her cigarette in a nearby trash ashtray. “I only played along ‘cuz you jumped into that shit without warning me properly.”

“Regardless, you’re quite talented,” said Kokoro, gesturing in her direction. “Thanks to you, the people of this square came alive -- no longer the miserable rotten dead trash that society has made them.”

“Once again,  _ no _ fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about…” Kanon muttered, pulling a fresh cig out of her jeans pockets.

“We’re sure to awaken many more people when we start our band.”

The butt fell from Kanon’s mouth right as she pulled out her lighter. “I’m sorry?”

* * *

Kanon paced the halls at school the next day, scolded once more by teachers for not following dress code and smoking tobacco and skipping class as she tried to sort out what Kokoro had told her the day before.  _ A band? She wants to start a fuckin’ band? She didn’t even know what instruments you need for that shit… fuuuck, this is gonna be a real headache, isn’t it… _

“Kanon.”

She recognized the dark tone of voice immediately, spinning on a heel to face her. “Kokoro? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised…”

“We should seek out band members today,” said Kokoro, still emitting the same bleak aura as yesterday. “You said we need a guitarist, yes?”

“Well, yeah,” said Kanon, leaning casually against the hallway window. “Guitars do the melody and shit. Your band’s not worth piss if you don’t have that.”

“I see,” said Kokoro, turning towards a corkboard on the wall filled with postings. “So we need someone who can draw the attention of the masses, so that they’ll be more receptive to our message.”

_ Still not sure what the fuck she’s on about…  _ “Yeah yeah, a real superstar, that’d be great. You want me to find Jimi fuckin’ Hendrix or something?”

“No need,” said Kokoro, pulling a poster down from the wall. “I’ve found who I want.”

Kanon scanned the poster, her eyes falling upon a purple-ponytailed ponce in a Rebel Without a Cause pose, right down to the half-zipped leather jacket and tousled hair. It read  _ ‘The Haneoka Heartbreaker, Kaoru Seta, runs wild at 3:30 pm on Tuesday.’ _ “Haneoka Heartbreaker…? She some kinda fuckin’ libertine…?”

“She strikes an imposing image, doesn’t she?” asked Kokoro. “Such a striking ‘bad boy’ pose… surely she too rebels against this cruel society.”

“Ok, sure,” said Kanon, crumpling up the poster and tossing it in a trash bin. “But the fuck does that have to do with being able to play the guitar? How do you know she can?”

“We won’t know until we ask,” said Kokoro. And without waiting to hear Kanon’s response, she turned and sauntered down the hall.

_ Christ, this girl’s a piece of work…  _ Kanon thought, before following.

An hour later, and they found themselves in the Haneoka theater, bearing witness to a performance of  _ A Streetcar Named Desire.  _ Their mark was playing the leading role: along with every other position.

“Stella! My baby’s left me!” Kaoru cried, drunkenly stumbling towards a phone to dial. “Eunice? I want my baby.” A pause, a hang up, and then another ring. “Eunice! I’ll keep on ringin’ till I talk with my baby!” The stage darkened as she hurled the phone to the floor, throwing her head back and howling at the top of her lungs. “Stella! Stella, sweetheart! Stella!  _ Stell-ahhhhhhhh!!!!” _

Kanon had to admit that, regardless of the actress’s guitar-playing abilities, she certainly did have a magnetic charm about her.  _ Maybe she’s not just some run of the mill casanova, huh…  _ She flicked her eyes towards Kokoro to gauge a reaction, but the vocalist was as stoically forlorn as ever.

After the play wrapped up, Kokoro went out to the foyer without a word. Kanon begrudgingly gave chase once more. “So whaddya think? The chick can fuckin’ act, eh?”

“...Let’s find her before she leaves,” said Kokoro, paying Kanon’s words no heed.

It didn’t take long for them to find the actress -- she was preening herself with a hand mirror in the middle of the hallway, the popped collar of her fur leather jacket hiding half of her smirk. “What’s this? Haven’t seen strays like you around before… taken in by my charms like all the others, I’d bet.”

“You’re Kaoru Seta, yeah?” asked Kanon. She struggled to find the right words. “We’re here to… well…”

“Join us,” said Kokoro, extending a hand. “We’re forming a band, and we need a guitarist.”

Kaoru chuckled. “A band, eh? I did play the guitar once… was for a girl I liked, real sweetheart… fun to play with for a bit. Couldn’t keep up with my speed but hey…” she flicked her bangs to the side. “That’s usually how it is with strays. Can’t handle a bona fide tomcat.”

_ Aren’t a lot of tomcats strays?  _ asked Kanon silently.

“Your natural charisma would serve us well,” said Kokoro, stepping closer to Kaoru. “I can see it in your eyes -- the desire to expose this world for the sham that it is. Won’t you join us?”

Kaoru continued surmising Kokoro with a half-cocked smirk, more and more poison slipping through with every second. Until suddenly…

_ BAM _

Her arm thrust out, trapping Kokoro between herself and the wall.

“Oi!” Kanon shouted.

Kokoro didn’t react in the slightest, continuing to stare Kaoru down as the Haneoka Heartbreaker drew her finger across Kokoro’s jawline. “Well now… I’ve never known a little gutter cat like you to be so bold.”

Kokoro remained silent.

“Cat got your tongue? I could break your heart too, y’know…” Her fingers danced down to Kokoro’s chin. “It’s what I’m best at.”

“...You could break many hearts in our band,” said Kokoro. “Tear out the masses’ souls and stamp all over them with your music. Gouge the dredges of this putrid society with your woebegone melodies.”

“Hmhmhmhm… hahaha!” Kaoru pulled her head back and laughed. “Now that sure would be a sight, huh? I could be the Lion King of the whole wide world… and all the little kitties in the pride would come mewling up to me… a real pick of the litter, wouldn’t you say?”

“Indeed,” said Kokoro, stepping away from the wall. “Our voices will reach the whole world… waking people up to the decrepit reality they live in. I’m glad you agree.”

Kaoru shook her head, pulling out a comb that looked like a switchblade and styling her hair. “Who knew we could give each other what we want?” She nodded. “All right, panther, I’ll give you what you want. Let’s jam together.”

They shook hands. Kanon, watching with arms crossed, couldn’t help but feel that the two had talked past each other, but… well, they had a guitarist now, at least.

“Excellent,” said Kokoro, who despite her apparent pleasure looked and sounded depressed beyond belief. “Now we can start with our band activities.”

“Hold on a sec,” said Kanon. “We still don’t have a bassist.”

Both of her bandmates  _ (Christ, they were bandmates now)  _ looked at her blankly.

Kanon rolled her eyes. “Look, if you want a proper foundation to ‘jam’ with, you gotta get a fuckin’ bassline. It’s how it works.”

“I see,” said Kokoro, flipping her hair dramatically over her shoulder. “But how do we find one?”

Kaoru smirked, pocketing her switchcomb. “Don’t worry, panther… I’ve got just the trick that’ll make all the alley cats come running.”

* * *

How had it come to this?

“Waaaah! A monster!”

“Bwahahaha! It looks like it’s dead!”

“Yuck, it smells like… a college dude.”

“Mommy, why is there a scary bear here?”

“Shh, honey, quit staring, it’s rude.”

Misaki wasn’t making anyone smile. Well, anyone except the rude teens sticking their tongues out and mooning her and threatening to tip her over like a cow, but those weren’t the kinds of smiles she wanted to see. All the kids were scrambling away, ushered by anxious parents away from her and out of sight. This job wasn’t going like she wanted it to at all…

Well, her costume probably had something to do with that.

Misaki had expected something cutesy and huggable to move around in: a hamster, or maybe a cat. But instead it was a bear. Not that bears couldn’t be cute! But this one was… well…

First of all, it was monochromatic. Black and white all over. The eyes were shaped like X’s, with a strange surgical mask design around the mouth that made it look like some sort of Hot Topic design. One of the ears was torn clean in half, and the other was crumpled into itself. The nose was scarred. The mesh mouth was torn. The face was slightly melted by some sort of fire damage. The fur was matted by an unknown liquid. And the whole thing  _ smelled  _ \-- it emitted the same unbearable musk of something sprayed with way too much Axe. Even the cute name Misaki had given it -- Michelle -- didn’t do anything to alleviate the overall nastiness.

_ I know it’s not very attractive,  _ said the hiring man with a sheepish grin.  _ But hey, you can make it work! _

And Misaki had to believe in that. “U-Um, the bakery is having a sale this Sunday…!”

The passerby maintained a two-meter distance from her, side-eyeing her and plugging their noses as they quickened their pace. Even the attendant helping her out was keeping away. Her head slumped over in sadness.  _ Nobody’s grabbing the fliers… in fact, they seem repulsed by me… what do I do…? _

...Well, negativity never helped! She just had to figure out how to sell herself! If she tried hard, surely she could get some people to smile! “Hey, everybody! It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? Would you like a flier?”

Despite the positivity injected into her voice, nobody turned. It made sense… nobody could hear her with the mascot head on. But she had to keep trying! This was her new job, after all!

_ VROOM VRRROROOOOM _

The sound of a loud, obnoxious engine sounded from across the street. Misaki turned to see a group of high schoolers, all squealing around a parked motorcycle.

“Now now, ladies…” said the purple-haired rider, leaning against it casually and winking. “One at a time. I don’t bite.”

“AAAAAAH! KAORU-SENPAI!”

“MURDER ME PLEASE!”

“LET ME HAVE YOUR BABIES!”

_ I don’t know if that’s physically possible,  _ thought Misaki.  _ She looks like a real ‘bad boy,’ though… wah, another scary person… _

The tension in her gut deepened even further when she saw the delinquent’s friends -- the same girls from yesterday.  _ Oh no, that’s Kokoro Tsurumaki…! A-Are they in a gang? Are they here to cause trouble? I don’t want them to disrupt such a nice, clean shopping district! That’d be awful! _

Kanon hocked a loogie onto the sidewalk. “Well, we got a swarm of fangirls, at least. This what you’re looking for?”

Kokoro assessed the congregation of Kaoru devotees, frowning. “No… this energy is far too cheery. We need something darker. Rawer. More powerful…” Her eyes scanned the street before her…

...And locked onto one dingy, decrepit, foul-looking bear.  _ H-Huh? She’s looking at me? _

After a moment of staring, Kokoro began walking over.

_ Oh no! Please please please go away!  _ Misaki shouted inwardly, shrinking into as tight a ball as she could in her bulky costume.

Kokoro flipped her hair over her shoulder as she approached, staring into Misaki with a piercing gaze. “You. Who are you?”

“This is Michelle,” explained the attendant. “Th-The new mascot of the shopping district!”

Kokoro surveyed the wrinkly mascot costume up and down. “...I like you. You have a truly vile, rebellious presence -- exactly what we need to attract the sort of attention we desire.”

“H-Hold on a second!” Misaki squeaked, inaudible to anyone but herself. “I don’t want to get invol--”

“People of downtown!” Kokoro called, drawing all eyes towards her with her booming voice. “If you wish to join our revolution -- come hither, and blossom!”

Well, they attracted a lot of attention now. People from unaware toddlers to wary octogenarians stared at Kokoro and Michelle, each bearing an expression of both repulsion and fascination with the scene. As Kaoru and Kanon made their way over, a couple people approached, reaching out to take one of Michelle’s fliers -- only to have their hands stuffed with Kaoru’s headshot. 

“We seek a bassist,” Kokoro proclaimed, motioning with a sweep of her arm. “Our cause is not one of pleasantness, but determination -- if you lack the will to succeed, then perish!”

Misaki was on the verge of tears inside the suit, quivering with fright at the words. “Pl-Please, I don’t want-”

“H-Hey,” said Michelle’s attendant, stepping forward. “This suit is our property! You can’t just come over and-”

He was cut off by a meaty hand falling on his shoulder. He turned to see three massive women smirking menacingly, each attired in smooth black tuxedos… and mohawks.

“Hey, uh, pally,” said the one in front. “You wanna talk business out back? We got some er… papers for ya to sign.”

“Yeah, huhuh, papers,” another repeated.

Before the man could say anything he was ‘escorted’ off by the mohawked women, who were laughing like bit-henchmen in a Hollywood blockbuster. Misaki was now so frightened she couldn’t move.

“Come on, tiger,” said Kaoru, motioning towards Michelle. “Let’s score us some chicks.”

“Pretty sure she’s a bear, not a tiger…” Kanon muttered, spewing a plume of smoke to the side.

Misaki whipped her head around, surrounded on all sides by intimidating, black-clothed thugs. She wanted to squeal in terror, but couldn’t so much a move a vocal chord. How could things get worse?

Just as she thought this, a 60 kmph person collided with her torso, sending her tumbling to the ground.

_ “Waaaaaaaah!”  _ Misaki screamed, falling flat on her back.

“Wo-ho-ho! Sorry about that, guy!” the perpetrator spat out from above her. “I was just trying to clobber this six-year old in a footrace and I guess I ran a bit fast.”

Misaki tilted her head up to meet the sharp gaze of an orange-haired girl covered from head to toe in tattoos and piercings. The sleeves of her denim jacket had been torn off, which -- in conjunction with her messy mop of hair and Sex Pistols graphic tee -- made her the classic image of ‘punk.’

“Here, lemme help you up at least,” said the girl, extending a hand. As Misaki reached up to take it, she pulled it away. “Psyche! Haha, just kidding.” She stuck out her tongue, revealing a giant metal stud right in the middle as she grabbed Misaki’s arm and hoisted her up.

“You…” murmured Kokoro, sizing up the stranger. “I’ve seen you before… do you go to Hanasakigawa?”

“Yup!” The orange-haired girl flashed her teeth -- Misaki wasn’t sure if it was just a product of her fearful brain, but the punk’s canines looked like a vampire’s. “Name’s Hagumi Kitazawa! I play softball -- I’m the number one ace! Nothin’ I like more than a good competition and pounding my opponent into the dirt!”

_ S-So combative…  _ thought Misaki, stepping back. _ Wh-Why am I meeting so many scary people today? _

“Tell me,” said Kokoro. “Do you know how to play the bass?”

“Bass? Nah,” said Hagumi, poking a finger through the giant gauge in her right earlobe. “My bro taught me guitar, though. We used to drive around the neighborhood jamming riffs and smashing mailboxes before the neighbors complained.”

“A guitar’s just a bass’s sexier sister,” said Kaoru. “If you know one, you can learn the other, no problem.”

“You guys lookin’ to start a band or something?” asked Hagumi. “Come to think of it, whaddya even do in a band?”

“It’s simple,” said Kokoro. “We play so that our song may seep into the minds of our audience, making them tremble before the might of our anger, awakening to the brutality of the world.”

“Woah! So it’s like, crushing them under a wall of sound?” Hagumi pumped a fist. “Seems like fun! Count me in!”

Kanon smothered her cigarette on the building facade. “So… is this everybody?”

“Yes,” said Kokoro with a nod. “The five of us will no doubt be able to find a power that would be unmatched by any of us on our own.”

_ F-Five of us?  _ Misaki thought.  _ Is she including me?! I don’t want any part of this! _

“Are you including the fuckin’ bear, too?” asked Kanon, mirroring Misaki’s thoughts. “The hell’s she gonna do?”

Kokoro looked into the bear’s eyes. “Michelle will be the beacon of hatred by which we amplify our rage. You can tell by looking at her -- she’s more hardcore than any of us.”

_ What the heck does that mean?  _ Misaki thought.

_ What the FUCK does that mean?  _ Kanon thought.

“Makes sense to me!” said Hagumi. “Michelle has ‘hell’ in it, after all! We’ll grind ‘em all into dust!”

“Michelle raises hell, wherever she goes…” Kaoru muttered. “How radical...”

“Then we’re in agreement,” said Kokoro. “From this day forth, our pact is sealed in blood.”

Misaki, from within the putrid confines of her mascot outfit, looked around at the motley crew assembled:

A chain-smoking drummer who looked exasperated to be here.

A teethy bassist who seemed to relish in others’ defeat.

A seductive guitarist ready to snap hearts in two.

A sunken-eyed vocalist with a deep, permanent grimace.

And herself -- an earnest, well-meaning girl, stuck in the tattered remains of a ramshackle bear outfit.

“Everyone,” began Kokoro, her hair flowing dramatically in the breeze. “Let’s make the world scowl.”

**Author's Note:**

> More to come soon! I just... er... have to write the other chapters... haha...
> 
> Twitter: @DivineNoodles  
> CuriousCat: DivineNoodles

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [BeforeDark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25186525) by [thedailythoughtsoftsugumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedailythoughtsoftsugumi/pseuds/thedailythoughtsoftsugumi)




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